Harry Potter Characters' Guide To Parenting
by grangerdeen
Summary: Follow the story of the grown-up Harry Potter characters and their tales about their family and kids! As they first caught the spark of magic, their innocence bringing up some old memories, and many more! Nostalgia, feels and humor are in the air; silliness and immaturity will bloom at unlikely moments. Requests for moments for certain ships are also welcomed! My first fanfic, R
1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter Characters' Guide to Parenting**  
**By: grangerdeen**  
**Co-written by: Weaselle7**

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Chapter 1  
_How to Deal with Your Mini Father Figure_

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Ginny was sitting on the dining table, spooning a one-year-old James his morning breakfast with some difficulties, given that James was highly hyperactive and that she had lost a lot of rooms to move due to her growing belly, though it still wasn't desperately huge. Her second son was on the way.

Harry, on the other side, was kneeling by the fireplace, his face literally engulfed by the tosca-esque flame of Floo Network. His hands were making some wild gestures every once a while to support his intentions and to watch the scene (in which his head wasn't actually there) really amused Ginny. Shaking her head, Ginny turned back to her little adorable son.

"No– not that Dawlish bloke again," Harry said. He inhaled and sighed, which really was unpleasant since the flames that framed his face was suffocating. But Harry could hardly help it; being an Auror was really his endearing dream ever and it was very challenging in a way Harry loved. But hearing news that Dawlish had been sent to investigate a mysterious society that involved people that potentially were former Death-Eaters? Dawlish could've ended being Confunded or, Harry shuddered, made a spy for them.

"I know mate. I remember Neville told us about Dawlish being handled by his gran– what is that noise?"

Harry and Ron fell into a loud silence. They could hear a sound of… gagging.

"Is that Hermione?" Harry asked worriedly. Harry was in panic, as he pictured Hermione gagging because of her morning sickness, although he couldn't perfectly suppress his smile of knowing that he's going to have one more niece or nephew. Ron backed for a moment, his eyes searching for his wife, and then leaned back to Harry in such a deadly quick movement. Ron needn't to say anything as the fact occurred to Harry's mind.

"Merlin," Harry gasped, accidentally allowing himself to be momentarily suffocated by the Floo flames. "I'll be right back. I swear she'll be oka–"

Harry pulled himself from the fireplace, feeling himself collide wholly against the wooden floor and scrambled up to see Ginny. He found her on a seat next to baby James, her arms were slouched on the table to support her although she had already been sitting and her head was bent down. Her red hair were obscuring her face but Harry could tell that she was practically paling and sweating, judging by the agonizing coughs that came from her mouth.

"Ginny– Ginny, love, you need to rest," he told her gently. He knelt beside her, the only way he could her face she was hiding. Ginny forced a laugh as she lifted her chin, wiping her sweats with her free hands.

"I'm alright, Harry," she said dismissively, but Harry knew better. She didn't call him a worrywart or something the way she always did when Harry worried over her and overacted. He looked at her at the eyes, softly and pleadingly. She blushed.

"Alright, alright," she said, making a face but then the comical expression drained off in a blink of an eye as she gagged again, steadying herself on the table. She rose slowly, helped by Harry, and finally managed to faintly whispered, "But James–"

"I'll do it," Harry said, smiling knowingly. Ginny expelled a tired sigh but her face read worry.

Harry chuckled and helped Ginny to their room for a rest. As she laid down, she whispered, "I'll hex Ron. He's doing this _baby sister_ thing again."

Feeling determined to be a nice father; Harry descended the staircases and entered the kitchen. James was already waiting there and chimed "DADA! DADA! DADA!" as Harry showed up. Smiling proudly to himself, Harry sat next James and began to spoon him his breakfast.

At first, Harry was doing it the way any normal parent would do. He held the spoon in front of James, moving it slowly to his mouth as Harry made some ridiculous noises. He would never admit it to anyone but he strangely enjoyed it, to have a moment with his son. As no one was watching, Harry improved his techniques and he started to act as if the spoon was a Quidditch player instead of planes or trains.

"And Chaser Potter is nearing the hoops," Harry commentated, clearly enjoying it. "And… she scored! Gryffindor is leading!" Harry said cheered as James took a bite of his food. Harry spooned the last piece of his meal and began to bring the spoon to zoom around James' sight in strange Quidditch maneuvers.

"Chaser Potter is holding the Quaffle again! Look at that maneuvers she's making!" Harry said as he brought the spoon around the space between him and James. The baby's eyes are following it with so much interest. All of a sudden, James' little hand shot up to the air, reaching for the spoon. The scene was miraculous, it had made Harry thunderstruck. James' tiny fingers grasped the spoon and brought it to his own mouth, munching it passionately.

"And Seeker Potter caught the Snitch!" Harry cried out of pure joy, not realizing the tears that were welling on his eyelids. James beamed cutely at him, grinning to show his toothless mouth, still with the spoon in it. Harry leaned down to kiss his son, to put so much love and indescribable pride that was swelling in his heart right now.

"Nice one, James."

::

**A/N:** Alright, how was that? Coming next is Ron taking care of little Rosie when Hermione wasn't around. Oh no, Hermione wasn't around and Ron was left with the baby! How could things not bound to pure madness?


	2. Chapter 2

**Harry Potter Characters' Guide to Parenting**  
**By: grangerdeen**  
**Co-written by: Weaselle7**

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Chapter 2  
_What Belongs To the Baby, Stays the Baby's_

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If Ron weren't allowed to laugh at this scene, he was not going to say that it was sensible. Call him immature, but with those natural daftness and stupidity of his, he would still be wondering what was so cute with feeding a baby with those self-insulting techniques. No, he didn't think it was disgusting; the adorable five months old petite-Hermione over there was his daughter, but he just thought it was plain amusing and funny.

Oh, alright, and cute from Hermione and Rose's side, but he was not going to admit that the whole ritual was adorable.

"Don't _laugh_," Hermione warned without even turning around to see his predictable expression. Even now that he was starting to think that the whole activity was amusing instead of ridiculous, Hermione could still see a hint of amusement within his smile. Ron pouted.

Don't blame him, when he first heard Mum babying Ginny, Ron was a mere one-year-old with no sense of adorableness, as a matter of fact. That and he needed more than five months to ready himself to be a good father.

"Aren't you supposed to be discussing with Harry via Floo right now? I heard you two talking in the living room," said Hermione, unconsciously still applying her babying tone as she talked to Ron. Ron suppressed a laugh.

"Uhm," he began, clearing his throat as he disguised his chuckles as coughs. "No, apparently Ginny is having her usual morning sickness and he should help her and things."

"Oh, I hope she's doing well," Hermione replied warily before she went back to Rose and spooned her a bit more crunched biscuits.

"Oh, she will, she's Ginny," Ron mused.

He took a seat to the other side of Rose and summoned the latest edition of Daily Prophet. Expelling a loud yawn (Hermione rolled her eyes at him, Merlin knows she was still bound-to-rules-and-etiquettes Prefect to the heart), Ron started to read the newspaper. He stayed silent for a moment, leaving Hermione to her business and sank himself deeper to the newspaper when Hermione straightened up suddenly.

Following it, a muffled noise of stacks of papers thudded against the floor echoed through the stairwell's corridor.

"Merlin, Crookshanks!" Hermione cried silently.

Then it occurred to his head.

"I swear I left our door closed," Hermione muttered to herself, her brain looked like running a hundred miles per hour. "Take care of Rose for a minute, won't you, Ron? I promise your papers will go back to their original position. I'm sorry!" Hermione then rose abruptly, handing Ron the small bowl and the spoon, and then gave him a quick apologetical kiss. She stormed afterwards.

Ron didn't know why; they had been mates, couple, and married for years, but it always sent butterflies down his stomach every time she kissed him. Blinking twice, Ron found that a pair of hazel eyes that was staring at him weren't Hermione's, but Rose's.

"Oh," Ron said quietly and began to scoop a small amount of baby biscuits from the bowl. Rose was giving a hysterical response by literally bouncing up and up, her jaw that was hung down to retrieve her food was shaking like mad. Her hands were reaching out.

"Come on, open up, Rosie," Ron said pleadingly. Upon looking at Ron's expression, Rose had become even more hysterical as she laughed cheerfully. He now understood why Hermione and literally ever other mothers in the planet had to do this ritual. No one might see him, but he still felt reluctant to do it.

After some useless attempts to make Rose open her mouth, Ron sighed and put a huge pout on his face somehow effortlessly. Rose began to laugh cheekily but her laughter turned into a silent confused expression as she saw Ron shoving the spoon to his mouth and ate her breakfast. Rose pouted and Ron widened his eyes.

He didn't just made her daughter going to cry.

_Hermione. _Her name was hanging desperately on the edge of his tongue but he was just too scared that if he made a single noise, Rose would break down crying. _Where is she when I need her?_

_Relax_. He could handle this. He just needed to summon his father intuition now.

Unbeknownst to Ron himself, there was something in his hand that was squirming like mad. Weird. How could the spoon manage itself to squir–

"ARGH!"

Ron smashed the thing that used to be the spoon to the wall in front of him and slammed himself to the other side of the room. The spoon had apparently turned into something black, hairy, eight-legged–

"HERMIONE," Ron cried in somewhat a shrilly voice. It would have been so comical and embarrassing, but this was not a laughing matter for Aracnophobic people. Rose was laughing innocently somehow as she watched his father adorably. Ron would've hugged and kissed his daughter for showing an unusually early signs of magic; but as long as the arthropod existed in the same room with him, his legs would still be rooted permanently to the floor. The nauseous sensation of the living thing squirming in his palm stayed tingling beneath his skin.

Hermione arrived in a flashing speed with panic in her eyes. When her eyes fell to Rose, he could see her tensed shoulders relaxed. Her eyes followed Ron's terrified gaze to the other end of the room and he could see her rolling her eyes afterwards even when her back was on him. Hermione pulled out her wand and magically transfigured the spider back into a metal harmless spoon.

"I hope Rose didn't learn it from Fred when we brought her to Mum's, last Sunday dinner," Ron squeaked. Hermione chuckled silently at the thought. Sure she and Ron had brought Rose along to the Burrow last Sunday, where they had held a weekly _huge_ family dinner. George and Angelina had brought little Fred as well and the cousins had played together, but to think that Fred had taught Rose how to frighten Ron was too amusing.

"So, we tied, I suppose," Hermione said innocently and shrugged.

::

**A/N: **Aaaaalright? How was that? Sorry if it was awkward, I'm completely like Ron actually, so thanks to Becky for helping me! Coming up next are Hermione, Ron, typical crazy house and kids of Weasley's, and an unpredictable situation in which a certain spell brings up a sweet memory.


	3. Chapter 3

**Harry Potter Characters' Guide to Parenting**  
**By: grangerdeen**  
**Co-written by: Weaselle7**

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Chapter 3  
_Is It The Time Yet To Tell Them About Hogwarts?_

::

"Wingardium Leviosa," Ron cast. One of the golden circular Christmas tree accessories floated up from the card box and fixed itself delicately on the nearby twigs that stuck out of the main trunk.

Of course, Ron had mastered all of those teensy spells like that, but he just enjoyed it to pronounce it out loud and watched as Hermione tried to obscure her face with her lion mane hair or tried hard not to burst out laughing. On the other side of the tree, Hermione was decorating the tree in a tremendous speed she almost finished her side with beautiful and colorful accessories and draperies. Every once a while, she would change the color of one of the accessories, changed the shape, add some glitters or enchant them to glow on certain pattern.

"I have Wose blue staw, I have Wose blue staw!" three years old Hugo suddenly broke into the living room, chanting victoriously as he startled Ron and Hermione. He was holding one of the Christmas tree accessories; a blue –Rose's favorite color– plastic star-shaped drapery.

"I want my blue staw! Hugo, stop stealing my possessions!" Rose –who was four years old now– followed, storming with fire cracking in her eyes. Thank you for the inheriting Hermione's brain and indefinite ability to memorize things, now Rose wasn't making it any clearer to Hugo.

"What's the possesshens?"

"Rosie, Hugo, why don't you two help Mum and Dad decorating the Christmas tree?" Hermione asked, clearly seeing the hint that the sibling quarrelling wasn't going any better. She gestured at the tree, which was unfortunately showing her ninety-nine-percent-finished side. Oops.

"Aw, it's boring, Mum!" Hugo complained, apparently finding no room left to accessorize.

"Hugo, stealing is bad!" Rose snapped, not that it had something to do with Hermione's request.

"Hugo, give it back to your sister. Rosie, we have plenty of blue stars over here. Why don't you two come?" Ron said in a non-committal way.

"Blue staws!" Hugo rushed to his Dad's side.

"Hugo, give it back to me!" Rose half-shouted, stomping on her way to her Dad. Soon, Hermione joined the three of them to help.

"So, when you're turning eleven, you'll go to this school called Hogwarts and learn magic like how to perform _Wingardium Leviosa_," said Ron animatedly as he made hand gestures to represent how indescribable Hogwarts was. He swished and flicked his wand and one of the golden spheres levitated up and hung itself on a branch. Rose and Hugo watched in awe whilst Hermione looked like she was shaking with laughter.

"Wingawdium Ewiosaa? What Wingawdium Ewiosaa does?" Rose asked innocently, her mouth acted to its own curious-Hermione-like accord.

"It's Levi-OH-sa, Rose, not Levio-SAH," Ron explained, quoting Hermione bleeding ages ago. On the corner of his eyes, he could see Hermione started to color around the cheeks. He bit his tongue to hold back his laughter.

Following her Dad's gaze, Rose tilted her head to the side as her curiosity started to take control.

"Mum, why is your face like tomato?"

::

**A/N:** How was that? Err, I know, typical short Romione headcanon, but I just adore it a little bit more than a normal Potterhead should. Coming up next are Ginny teaching her second son numbers! If only he knows how to put them correctly and keep his parents calm.


	4. Chapter 4

**Harry Potter Characters' Guide to Parenting**  
**By: grangerdeen**  
**Co-written by: Weaselle7**

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Chapter 4  
___Make Sure They Know What Comes After Three_

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It was a usual Sunday morning, at least for a Weasley-Potter.

Harry was teaching James how to play Quidditch ("Daddy and me wants to talk man to man," little James would always say). Baby Lily was sleeping peacefully in her silk-white crib, which Ginny would consider as an accomplished mission. Albus was sitting on the backyard porch step as he admiringly watched Harry flew on his broomstick. Washing the breakfast dishes, Ginny herself proceeded to prepare the lunch.

"One, two, three," Harry would say. James would groggily accelerate his new broom, trying to get into the throwing range so that he could throw the Quaffle past Harry's guidance.

But today, Albus was given homework by Ginny. He eyed the mathematic workbook thoughtfully, scrbbling down the answer every once a long moment. He doodled his best '_2_' beside a picture of a pair of identical Cornish Pixies and '_1_' beside a sole common dragon. After some more questions, he entered the kitchen proudly and submitted his work to his Mum.

"Mum, I done," he beamed.

"Really? That's good!" said Ginny, bowing down to kiss Albus on the forehead and took the workbook to check it. She smiled proudly to herself whilst checking Albus' first two papers.

Upon looking the kitchen table, Albus chimed excitedly, "Wow! Nine eggs!"

Strange, she only remembered putting four boiled eggs there. Confused, Ginny turned to see the kitchen table.

"Albus, there are only four eggs there," Ginny told.

"No, nine there," Albus persisted, his hand pointing impatiently at the indeed four eggs. Ginny sighed; maybe Albus had a little problem with numbers.

"Albus, look at me," Ginny said, bowing and facing her second son. Leaving Albus' work on the table, she made a fist but left her index finger pointing. "How much is this?"

"One," said Albus.

Ginny freed her middle finger.

"Two," Albus answered.

She proceeded to free her fingers one by one as Albus chimed in.

"Three, Nine, Four-"

Ah, finally, Ginny could see the problem.

"Four," Ginny corrected kindly, moving four of her fingers in a waving way.

"Four," Albus agreed.

"Alright, let's start it again, shall we? Now, how much is this?" asked Ginny, her left and right index fingers were pointing out.

"Two," said Albus intelligently.

Ginny drew her left thumb and index finger together, leaving the other three fingers pointing out.

"Three," Albus answered.

Ginny made two peace sign with her hands.

"Nine."

Ginny inwardly sighed.

At the same time, Harry and James, dripping with sweats, entered the kitchen from the backdoor. Harry summoned the water jug and two goblets smoothly, pouring the water for him and James.

"Oh, what are you doing, Gin?" he asked his wife leisurely. Seized by curiosity, Harry took Albus' abandoned workbook.

"Teaching Albus; he kept thinking four was nine," Ginny said, looking at her husband hopefully.

Harry scanned the first few pages with pride. But as he reached the fifth page, his eyes widened alarmed. There, above five separated subscripted lines were disarranged numbers that brought back a feeling of horror.

_1, 2, 3, 9, 4,_

Harry's eyes were magnetically pulled to focus at the three last numbers.

Harry turned to Albus in a blink of an eye.

"Albus, what comes after three?"

Ginny didn't know what was so important with a boy with misled concept of number arrangements, but it seemed like Harry was so determined to correct Albus' mindset.

::

**A/N: **Lol, hehehehe, you get it? No? Umm, if the chapter doesn't work please feel free to tell me. Next to come are three people who are trapped in a room full of Stinksap! Oh, wait, what's so special with it? I think we must go and ask Professor Neville Longbottom.


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